


Master To Monster

by The_Silver_Souled_Hunter



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Beast Kisses, Bit of Gehrmaria, Bittersweet Ending, Blood Drinking, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 04:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17615753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Silver_Souled_Hunter/pseuds/The_Silver_Souled_Hunter
Summary: The first hunter fell victim to the scourge of beasts generations ago.  Even while he dwells within the Nightmare, one can't help but wonder if he has a bit of memory left...





	Master To Monster

As the last beast collapsed, Gehrman let out a deep exhale and lowered his Burial Blade. The scent of beast blood hung in the air, stinging his nostrils. The hunter gazed at the bodies littering the street, letting another sigh escape his lips. Footsteps sounded behind him before a familiar hand rested on his shoulder.

“Another job well done, wouldn’t you say, Gehrman?” Maria said, grinning triumphantly at her mentor. Gehrman smiled back and nodded, taking apart his Blade. The two hunters walked along the bloodied streets as the sun rose, casting light over Yharnam. Gehrman glanced down at Maria with another smile, only to collapse a moment later. She flinched and swiftly crouched next to him. “Oh! Are you alright?!” she asked.

Gehrman forced a chuckle and rubbed his good leg. “Oh, it’s nothing serious. Just a bit a bit of a cramp.” He answered. Truthfully, it felt as if his leg was being twisted off, but he wouldn’t dare let anyone know that. Maria helped him up, letting him lean against her as they walked back to the Workshop. Once they arrived, Gehrman sat back in his favorite chair and took off his gloves. Maria glanced over and frowned.

“Your…fingernails seem a bit sharp. Have you been doing something with them?” she asked. Gehrman grimaced and simply nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. He had just filed them down yesterday! How had they come back even sharper, and so fast too? He shook his head and took off his top hat, leaning back and watching Maria repair her Rakuyo. The cramp persisted, but the pain had mostly died down. Hopefully no one would suspect anything.

The nights passed one after the other, and each morning Gehrman was plagued by crippling pains in various parts of his body. He kept these pains secret from his fellow hunters, fearing the day someone discovered what was happening to him. That day came sooner than expected.

“Gehrman, we need to talk.” Maria demanded, closing the Workshop door a bit more harshly than necessary. Gehrman nearly jumped out of his seat and whipped his head in her direction. She walked up to him, a scowl on her face and her hands on her hips. “You’ve been getting worse this entire month! Ever since you first fell that morning, you’ve been holding yourself in pain more and more! I’m not stupid, you know!” she scolded.

Gehrman recoiled at his apprentice’s outburst, pressing his lips together and wringing his hands. “If I told you what was happening, you could never trust me again…” he said. Maria’s glare intensified, causing him to sigh in defeat. He shakily rose a hand to the side of his face and pulled down his lip. Maria gasped as he turned his head.

His teeth were turning into fangs. Now that she looked at his fingers again, the tips were sharper, like claws. And was that fur growing from his wrists and neck? Gehrman removed his hand and looked down in shame. “I realized what was happening to me quite a while ago. I’m not sure how much time I have left,” he said, his voice quiet. “I can’t stay here. I can’t bear the thought of being slaughtered by my own allies.”

Maria was silent, her mouth hanging open. She slowly moved her arm to cup his cheek in her hand, using her thumb to wipe away the tears that were forming. “Master Gehrman…I can help you fight it. I can get you medicine, anything to curb it!” she cried. Gehrman placed his own hand over hers, gazing down at her with a mournful smile.

“Oh, Maria, surely you remember Old Yharnam. Medication is only a temporary relief.” He said. Yet Maria wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to nestle her face into his shoulder, whispering about how she could fix it. All he could do was shake his head and return the embrace.

As predicted, the medicine did little to slow the scourge’s progress. Maria tightened her grip on the paper, causing it to crinkle. This could be their last chance to save him, if it worked of course. Hesitantly, she opened the door to the Workshop, gasping at what she saw.

Books and papers had been scattered across the floor, scratch marks covering the doorways. Gehrman was wearing a black cloak, violently shivering with a pen in one hand and a small hair ornament in the other. He jumped and whipped around to face her. Horns were starting to grow from his head, his teeth had become jagged, and his hair was now long and wild.

“M-Maria…I was just leaving…” he whispered. He turned from the pedestal and limped closer until they were only a foot apart. At this point Maria could see that he was hunched over, his breathing was ragged, and his face was twisted into an agonized grimace. But the thing that made her stomach turn was his eyes, the pupils sunken and mushy.

“Gehrman, Laurence has a plan. We can stop this! The hunters…” she was cut off by Gehrman gripping her shoulders and resting his forehead against hers.

“It’s too late for me, Maria. Look at me, I’m a monster,” he gasped. He pressed the hair ornament into her hand. “I wanted to give this to you sooner, but could never find the right moment.” Maria held up the ornament. It was beautiful, and would stand out brilliantly against a head of greyish hair.

Tears started flowing down Maria’s cheeks as she reached up and wrapped her arms around Gehrman’s shoulders, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. His eyes widened at this, but he smiled and leaned into it. Maria pulled back and rubbed a fist across her eyes, feeling Gehrman pat her shoulder comfortingly.

“Farewell, my keen hunter. Fear the blood.” He said, pulling the hood of the cloak over his head. Maria watched him leave, pressing her palm to her forehead. Her mentor was gone, and Laurence would be expecting him. She gave a deep sigh and stepped out of the Workshop, looking over the contract again. Maybe she could compromise somehow…

“I never did see Gehrman again. Sometimes I wonder if he is still out there, prowling about and hungering for blood.” Maria said, leaning back in her wheelchair. Generations in the Hunter’s Dream had left her aged, her hair silver and deep wrinkles set into her face. Sitting in front of her was her newest pupil, Damien, who was gazing up at her with wide eyes.

“Do you think he may still have a bit of himself in there?” he asked. But Maria answered with a snore, her head low and her hands clasped together. Damien already knew the answer either way. Beasts were no more than beasts no matter their past, and must be disposed of all the same. He stood and gently patted his mentor’s shoulder as he made for the Hunter’s Nightmare headstone.

Damien awoke within the Lumenwood Garden and approached the entrance to the Astral Clocktower. Simon’s instructions came to mind: climb the Astral Clocktower and kill the beast that slumbered there. He pushed open the door and charged up the stairs, stopping as soon as he saw the horrid beast that lied within.  
Horns curved over it’s back, and wild grey hair covered it’s head, wrists, back, and chin. It’s skin was gnarled and covered in scars, and underneath it’s claws was the Clocktower Dial. Holding his breath, Damien crept closer and carefully reached for the Dial with a trembling hand.

The beast’s eye shot open, the creature snarling and rising to it’s feet. Damien jumped back and drew his Whirligig Saw, eyeing the beast, then the Dial. It suddenly pounced, missing the hunter by an inch. He swiftly turned and swiped the Saw across it’s flank, drawing blood and eliciting a deafening screech. It jumped away and lunged at him again, clamping it’s jaws down on his forearm.

Damien hissed and jerked his arm back, but the beast shoved him down and pinned him to the floor. It opened it’s jaws, letting strings of saliva drip down onto the hunter’s face, and slowly leaned it’s head down as if to let him contemplate his fate. Damien wriggled in place and turned his head away, already feeling hot breath wash over him. Only seconds before the end, the beast stopped short of biting him.

Cracking open an eye, Damien slowly turned his head back as the beast closed it’s mouth and began sniffing him. It pressed it’s nose against his forehead, blowing hot gusts of air against his face again. Damien whimpered as he meekly pushed at the beast, which tilted it’s head. It opened it’s mouth again, a dry and ancient voice whispering, “Maria?”

Damien lied still as the beast stepped back and nudged his chest. “Uh…I’m her student. From the Hunter’s Dream.” It narrowed it’s eyes, apparently not understanding him. The hunter sat up, only for the beast to gently push him back down and take more deep sniffs.

“Maria…” it whispered, nuzzling the side of the hunter’s face. “R-re…member, Maria…” Damien lied still, his mind jumping to different ways he could communicate with the beast without enraging it. He slowly reached up and patted it’s snout.

“I…you must be Gehrman, yes?” he asked. The beast’s eyes widened, recollection sparking in them. He began whimpering and moved his snout down to Damien’s waist, nudging at his pockets. “You, uh, must be hungry!” he suggested, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a pungent blood cocktail, noticing how Gehrman eyed the bottle as if it were a hot dinner.

Damien sat up again as he uncorked the bottle. Gehrman was drooling, eagerly opening his jaws. The hunter winced at the sharp teeth, quivering tongue, strings of saliva, all being so close to him. Yet he tipped the bottle forward and let the strong, sweet blood flow down the beast’s tongue and into his gullet.

The former hunter greedily gulped down the red fluid, purrs rumbling up from his throat. Once the bottle was empty, he joyfully lapped at some of the blood that had spilled onto the wooden floor. Just as Damien let out a sigh of relief, Gehrman lunged at him. “No!” he screamed, but Gehrman happily licked his cheek, smearing blood and slobber on his mask.

Damien winced as the beast eagerly lapped up the blood that had gotten on him. Once Gehrman had taken to curiously sniffing and nibbling his garb, he wiped away the drool and ran his fingers through his fur. “Oh Maria…hunter…Good Hunter…” Gehrman purred, raising his head to nudge Damien’s face.

“Yes, Maria. She’s my mentor, and…she remembers you.” He said. Gehrman sat up on his haunches, front paws holding down Damien’s legs. “She was just telling me about you. She remembers you fondly, misses you,” He crooned. Damien rested his head against Gehrman’s snout and rubbed away a small trail of blood with his thumb. “She loves you, even after all these years.”

A few tears had begun falling from Gehrman’s bloodshot eyes. A grin slowly made it’s way up his muzzle, purrs rumbling forth as he nuzzled the hunter’s collarbone. Damien laughed at the ticklish sensation, only for the former hunter to pull away and limp to a corner of the room. It was only then that Damien noticed Gehrman was missing part of one leg.

Gehrman returned with an impressive scythe in his jaws. He dropped it at the hunter’s feet and looked up at him expectantly. When the hunter tilted his head, Gehrman huffed and lowered his head. His eyes widened as the realization melted in. “I…I can’t. You’re still here, I can…” he was cut off by Gehrman grasping his shoulder and lightly nudging his forehead.

“Good Hunter…she’s still out there, still remembers me…I am happy. Please, end this godforsaken nightmare…” he hissed as best he could, his voice gravely from generations of disuse.

Damien was frozen. After a moment he took a deep, shuddering breath. He placed the scythe down to cup Gehrman’s lower jaw in his hands and place a light kiss on his snout. The former hunter smiled and pulled away before lowering his head once more. Damien took up the Burial Blade, squared his shoulders, and raised the weapon.

The Plain Doll tilted his head at the approaching hunter. His head was held low, his shoulders slumped, and the handle of a massive scythe was gripped in his hands. The hunter’s steps forward were heavy, almost as if his shoes were made of iron. The Doll gave him a troubled smile and cleared his throat.

“Good Hunter. This may sound strange, but…have I somehow changed? Moments ago, from some place, perhaps deep within, I sensed a liberation from heavy shackles. Not that I would know…How passing strange…” he gave a chuckle at the end of his speech, an attempt to lighten the mood. The Good Hunter peeked up from under his hat and carefully placed the scythe down. Before the Doll could utter another word, Damien lunged forward and wrapped his arms around his neck.

The Plain Doll froze. Damien had buried his face into his scarf, which was now soaked with his tears. He tentatively held the hunter closer and rested his porcelain cheek on his head. “There, there, Good Hunter. I am here for you.” He said. He removed Damien’s hat and planted a kiss on top of his head before comfortingly stroking his hair.

Maria watched her hunter and the Doll embracing from the Workshop. She could see from the Burial Blade lying on the ground that it was over. She gazed up at the eerily red sky and felt a hint of a smile creep up the corner of her mouth.

“Rest in peace, Master Gehrman. You’re free now.”


End file.
